


Whitechapel Autumn (Remake)

by Writing Cat and Dog (CrowleyGirl)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: 1880, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Death, Detective Inspector Ianto Jones, F/M, Gore, Homicide, Jack the Ripper Murders, M/M, Owento - Freeform, Reporter Jack Harkness, Ripper AU, janto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 04:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleyGirl/pseuds/Writing%20Cat%20and%20Dog
Summary: A Jack the Ripper AU for our favorite Torchwood TeamRevamped and Upgraded after a year of inactivity!





	Whitechapel Autumn (Remake)

**Author's Note:**

> This first started when Homer Jackson of the show Ripper Street reminded me of our favorite cranky doctor. It then molded into a Jack the Ripper AU with lots of gay added in. I recently began rewatching Ripper Street and decided to revamp this since I only ever wrote like three chapters and it all sucked. (Not that it still doesn't suck)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Friday the 31st, August 1888  
3:50 AM

Shadows dripped like candle wax from the eaves of the brick and mortar home, slipping down a crooked wall and into the cobblestone street below. A waxing crescent afforded little light, but a dying lantern flickered above the doorstep, enough brightness to illuminate the gruesome scene splayed across the dark gravel. A woman, scarcely past the age of twenty, spread over the steps with a ghostly pale face and no sign of life. Her throat had been cut open with little regard for method or cleanliness, blood still gushing from the wound to mar her perfect skin. Something sharp had slit open her abdomen and her insides were on display as if they had been riffled through. Many other incisions had been made in the soft flesh of her belly, each cut gleaming crimson in the soft light. Someone with bloodied hands had taken the time to arrange her gold-spun hair around her face. Peaceful in death despite the grim exhibit. 

One of the local street urchins had found her in this state and raced off to the nearest police station with "murder' on his lips and the hopes of a coin or hot meal in his mind. His avid description lead the sergeant to the scene so now, at an ungodly hour, Detective Inspector Ianto Jones stood over the body clutching his overcoat close to ward of the sharp chill. His breath ghosted between full lips as he removed the dark bowler hat from his head in respect. Piercing blue eyes stared intently, not missing a single detail within reach.

"What was her name?" The question was directed toward Officer Williams standing offset his shoulder.

"Nichols, Sir." Williams glanced at the crumpled note in his gloved hands, "Mary Ann Nichols."

"She worked at Buck's Row?" It was a rhetorical question, but Officer Williams nodded his assent as Jones stared thoughtfully at the still corpse.

"As a prostitute, yes Sir."

Jones sighed and glanced around the crime scene. "No one's disturbed it? We can't risk any damage to the evidence or any tricks by curious citizens."

Officer Williams shrugged and shivered at a biting gust of wind. "'sfar as I know we're the first here."

"Good." 

A steady dripping sound could be heard from somewhere down the alleyway. Soft moonlight drifted into sunlight and the cluttered streets of East End London began to wake. Inspector Jones crouched down to get a better look then glanced back up at his subordinate. "We'll need to load her up before it draws too much of a crowd. Take her in the carriage, it's faster."

The officers around jumped to follow orders. The body was lifted into the back of the police carriage and a young officer drove away towards the station. 

"Forgive me, Sir. But who do you suppose would do such a thing? I've never seen such... destruction." Officer Williams asked, a nervous tremor to his voice.

"Too soon to know anything. We'll have to get Harper to look at the body as soon as possible. The press will hear about this for sure, such a gruesome killing won't escape notice, and we'll feel the pressure of the city to solve this." Jones replied, still trying to take as much information in as possible before the hustle and crowds of the day ruined the integrity of the scene. "I have the feeling this won't be the end of it, yet."

"A hunch, Sir?" Williams questioned, "and is Harper truly the best idea? We've seen how unreliable he can be."

The Inspector grimaced, "Aye, and we've no choice. All the others are drunks and incompetent. Harper may be unruly, but he's the best damn doctor we've got." 

Officer Williams chuckled and patted Jones on the back much to familiarly for the Inspector, "I know how you feel about him, you're not the only one, but I suppose you're right. He is the best damn doctor we've got."

 

 

Doctor Owen Harper often found himself every imaginable event that could have led him to accepting this piece of shit job. The pay was horrid, the work hard, and he was currently elbows deep in the fetid bowels of an elderly man found dead in his own home. Despite already knowing he had died of natural reasons, the proper procedure required him to complete a full examination to 'rule out foul play' as one of the officers had so cleverly put it.

He cursed as the scalpel slipped out of his bloody hands and into the distended stomach just as the head of the H Department strolled in. Harper abandoned the body in favor of glaring at the   
Detective Inspector who had the audacity to act like he owned this dead room. 

"This better be good-"

Inspector Jones ignored the threatening tone, "I've a case for you, Harper."

Harper sighed at the lack of respect, "It's Doctor Harper to you, Jones. And I'm busy."

The Inspector wrinkled his nose at the onslaught of smells drifting from various bodies and coughed, "Whatever- whatever you're doing, this is vastly more important. We've got a homicide and a body that needs taking apart, which I'm going to assume is more interesting to you that... this."

Harper snapped off his gloves and threw a thick cloth over the man (scalpel still inside). "This better be damn good, I've got three different departments breathing down my neck right now."

Jones rolled his eyes and strode from the room, obviously expecting the doctor to follow. Which he did, but not before washing up and placing the bodies out back in their respective lockers.

The body had been locked in a separate room, away from the normal hubbub of the station, which should have prepared Harper somewhat. When he finally caught up with the Inspector he stopped and whistled, "Damn."

Jones turned his attention from the thoroughly mutilated woman and leaned back against the damp and molding wall. "Mary Ann Nichols was found in a side street doorway still bleeding out a few hours ago. Still bleeding out."

Harper approached the metal table holdin the body and grimaced, "Whoever did this had some professional training at least. Look, they've severed the carotid right through in one clean cut. The rest seems to be post-mortem, more brutal than necessary."

Jones hovered close behind him as he inspected closer, watching the doctor's every move with stony eyes. Harper was usually the one to remark on how masterful a killing was or some other morbid comment, but even the seasoned doctor seemed taken aback by the sheer cruelty and disrespect displayed in the cuts.

"Is there anything you can tell us?" The Inspector asked as Harper riffled through a nearby drawer for a fresh scalpel.

The doctor shook his head, "I'd like to finish the autopsy before making any assumptions. But I can tell you that this... person truly hated her, for whatever reason. And he was left handed."

"He?" Jones questioned, scribbling down a note in the pad that rarely left his person.

"Yes, he." Harper continued, "Considerable force would have to have been used. No woman could have inflicted this deep of injuries."

Jones nodded and the doctor traced a line with the scalpel down to her breastbone before motioning for him to leave.

Jones did. Gladly.


End file.
